Factory Mercedes Starbus, express A HUMAN WOE
transmogrifying the night, transmo,
what was the word
can’t wait to get home, to hear sylph, SYLPH! lok, open
Lolita and gaze
listen to know
the very presentation of a day, a drawing of this day of hers, adorable with crayons on whatever paper with tea on it., thinking about why there is a feeling of pathetia and sorrow in it, feeling of senescence, feeling of it not being allowed, the togetherness, all, eternal my skin, eternal my faith, my effort to stay here
saying, moving your lips in the night the inner psalm, hymn read tirelessly believing in my mind, the passing light of a train and the sounds. Pass the word to it, how I felt the words. Pass.
glut of occurrences happen. Plethora of cuisine, cleansing by publicity, we as a collective, collectives, groups, dynamics between them, us, what is there in between as there always are the betweens that
clash into invertebrate monolith of press, oftener than with short descriptions of what had happened, the medium of books, the medium of clashing, medium of touching and didn’t I say anyrrrh and pyrrhh
pass the word,
tell that She went nuts.
a week-old ventriloquist, week-old presentation, pseudocommunal image, or cross section or slanting and does his dummt take off, dumm, take off, can’t take it, don’t get it
dateline flood line –
they whispered, hi friend floating on a fallen tree in a river,
fast, in a rapid stream, joyously, with incredible approximation inundating hippos, and us.
Unfinished business with civil rights strategy for America’s instant humans and Volstead Prohibition Act.
Procedures of brainwashing quantities of information, enjoyed reading MAD when the lady typist arrived on the business cuspidor was doomed. “SENSasian lunches combine (in bed) best flavorvof of China”. Synesthesia of embryonic groth doomed by str sterility, celebrity warhead, missa, missile, tit resentment. Can’t wait, can’t see, but can imagine if that counts
a day which passed by
like eyes on one’s back
in this order by me, Mercedes Starbus.
DEATH HAS EYES? IS DYING SOMEONE WITH HEART DISEASE? TO DIE IS HAPPENING WITHOUT LOOKING EVERYDAY.
Pulsating vein, political. Regulating capitalism by democratic institutions, complex configurations of power relations, growing hair, emphasis, aspirations in finding sense what hypocrites say, it’s bad anyway, flight of stairs. Death has eyes, as it can walk.
I must be afraid, I must. I’m taught in fright. Phobias that we have keep us in place, intact,
in panic, oh your god and things that cannot be discussed over cup of coffee nor ever
Yes, I have fears. They are always with me. To use them against me; they have worked long before you. They are as touchable as someone with eyes, someone’s eyes in me or on. It is a constant state of insecurity that is part of me. It is an organ. next to me, watching me, touching me, insecurity of living, fragility and the fear is of dashed, broken loose, lose and lost
in the end useless
it does not keep me safe
ethereal substance, harmonic illusion, seeking to revive symmetry, incredible, colourfully dressed, bending, bent.
Ideas involved in walking back and forth leaning against the car window, not wearing much
is that how you pictured it, death, for me.
We will see, won’t we, who sells one’s body, who sells one’s soul, who sells organs
who sells qualities and who has them
being looked at always like that, like a thing, like something to want and melt
That is insecurity, you never know and don’t want to be looked at like that, who would.
something worth while, what is? Integrity, sincerity, or was it in history books someone who was brutally murdered.